


A Quest for Trousers

by RubyMagnolia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ass Play, Clothes, Clothes Popping, M/M, ass worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:24:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4663101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyMagnolia/pseuds/RubyMagnolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is oblivious to his wide hips and ass. Dorian gets Cullen into clothes that fit properly.</p><p>Then he gets Cullen out of them to worship Cullen's ass.</p><p> </p><p>
  <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14591.html?thread=55514879#t55514879">Kinkmeme Fill</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dorian gets into some explicit fantasies regarding how he would like to fuck Cullen.

"It's quite warm. Do you mind if I take off my coat?" asked Cullen.

"Not at all," said Dorian.

He'd stripped to a light tunic and trousers earlier that day, in favour of showing off his sleek form, a few buttons loose on his tunic, and a broad belt encircling his waist. Spring had arrived in Skyhold.

Cullen shrugged out of his feathered coat, slinging it over his arm. He ducked in front of Dorian as the path narrowed so only one person could walk on it without ending up in the Inquisitor's pumpkins.

Although neither of them had acted upon it, there was an attraction between Dorian and Cullen. This was what drew Dorian's eye to comfortably slide down Cullen's back – Cullen would, and had, done the same when Dorian walked in front of him.

Down Cullen's back, down his trim waist, and finally, down to an ass that Dorian had never seen before without something covering it.

Dorian was mesmerised by a sway of hips and form-fitting trousers. No, it was more than form-fitting, someone had made the trousers too small, stitches starting to split in the seat, and Cullen's ass was tight and round, but it wobbled and merged into wide hips. Those hips flared out, turning into luscious thighs that also asked a lot of Cullen's trousers.

His size suggested that he might have put on weight since Kirkwall, but the muscle in those trousers, and the newness of the fabric and style, suggested that Cullen had always been this way. His tailor was terrible. That had to be fixed.

Dorian almost forgot that he was supposed to be playing chess with Cullen and stood for a moment in awed observation and slight arousal before hurrying to catch up to his playing partner.

Cullen hadn't noticed, thankfully, and they settled into their seats.

Dorian started to set up his pieces, sneaking looks at Cullen's seat and finding that Cullen's trousers were even tighter as his ass took up most of the seat.

That was it. He needed that ass. Surely Cullen knew that he possessed such a gorgeous rear?

"Cullen, odd question, but where do you get your trousers made?" asked Dorian.

"Denerim. Nothing to your standards, surely," said Cullen.

"No, not to my standards at all. You just appear to be a tad tight," Dorian said.

Cullen nodded, a hand kneading at his thigh.

"I think they must have given my measurements to a new tailor, they've used the wrong fabric and sizing entirely."

He hooked a thumb into his waistband.

"Quite frustrating, as they've made the waistband correctly, just the seat and the inseam appear to have sliced a few inches off," he said, sighing. "I've told them so many times that there's not enough give in the fabric for them to do that, and yet they insist on continuing. But these are truly atrocious."

Cullen chuckled, and playfully suggested he needed to write a stern letter to the tailor. His eyes crinkled slightly when he laughed.

Oh Maker, this poor Fereldan farm boy needed Dorian's help. That perfect body was being crushed by shoddy tailoring.

"It is extremely frustrating, but everyone gets that," said Cullen. "Finding decent trousers, that is."

He really didn't know, did he?

Dorian sighed, moving a rook, and despaired at Cullen's endearing obliviousness.


	2. Chapter 2

There was more than one person who had seen Cullen sans coat. Eyes lingered discreetly as Cullen passed, quickly averting as Dorian shot them a look and slipped alongside the commander to match his pace.

"No luck with the tailors, I see," said Dorian.

"Only you would be so attentive to my clothes," replied Cullen, nudging Dorian with his elbow.

Cullen had casual clothing on, faded and old and worn, his shirt almost transparent in the strong sunlight. He had training leathers tucked under one arm, and his practice sword was strapped onto his waist. His trousers almost had holes in their knees, patches sewn over them. Despite all of this, he looked ravishing.

There was a looseness in his stance. Relaxed.

He wriggled into his leathers, others already setting up with sparring partners in the training ring, pouring fresh sawdust into the arena. Cassandra was leaning on a fence, occasionally barking out a correction.

"Are you staying to train or to watch?" asked Cullen.

"To watch, of course," said Dorian.

He made himself comfortable on a haystack. Cullen went straight to Cassandra, and after they had warmed up, proceeded to spar. The graceful movements made them sway and dance through the training ring. The sharper jabs and parries shot through their bodies, jerking them.

It wasn't much, since the leathers were strapped around him protectively, flattening his shape, but it made Cullen's thighs shake.

Dorian caught himself before he wandered into explicit daydreams about kneading and swatting at those thighs until they were pink, moving up to the shapely rear and making it wobble. Those had to wait until later, when he could act on them.

A small crowd gathered around the arena. It was always a treat to see such skilled warriors sparring. By the time Cassandra and Cullen shook hands, finishing their fight as a tie, Dorian could barely see over the heads of those gathered.

He supposed there were other reasons to watch, apart from education. Cassandra was a beautiful woman – Dorian could appreciate the beauty of anyone, he didn't have to be sexually attracted to them to say they were appealing – and many were watching her form over her sword. Others were eager youth who sought inspiration in Cassandra and Cullen, not at all interested in sex, only there to see their heroes in a safe space.

Cullen emerged from the crowd. He'd removed his chest guard, but his body and thighs were still hidden by his leather pads. As soon as he spotted Dorian, he raced towards him. The glow of exercise was bright in his skin, even if he smelt damp and mossy.

Nose wrinkling, Dorian looked Cullen over. One finger prodded at Cullen's chest, mock threateningly, and Dorian bit back a smile that would spoil the stern effect.

"Don't even think of cuddling me when you smell like that," Dorian said.

"So you would hug me if I didn't smell?"

The question caught Dorian off guard. Their flirting was usually so playful that Dorian barely noticed it, unless Cullen stumbled with some aspect of Tevinter culture. It didn't stray too far, never suggesting anything intimately physical, and Dorian was surprised that Cullen had brought up cuddling to Dorian in the first place.

"Maybe," said Dorian.

"Maybe you'll meet me when I've finished bathing?"

"And why would I want to do that?"

Cullen edged away a little, thinking that his advances were unwanted. Dorian grabbed his elbow, dragging him back, and the side of their hips bumped. The training leathers prevented Dorian from feeling the soft curve of Cullen's hip against his.

"Why haven't you taken these off?" asked Dorian, tapping the leathers.

Cullen's face went bright red and he ducked his head forward.

"My trousers split when I was training. If I take off my leathers, then there'll be an unsightly tear," he sighed.

Dorian's heartbeat quickened. The commander's ass was a force of its own. He had a sudden and bizarre fantasy of finding trousers that were tight and snug on Cullen, having him wear no smalls, and enchanting the stitching to pop open in the rear so that he could bend Cullen over his desk and fuck him, grasping that massive and beautiful ass underneath him. Then, when they were done, the stitches would re-lace, and that glorious ass would be contained again until next time.

He would look stunning in a properly high-waisted trouser. It was the newest fashion in Val Royeaux. Deep red, brown, or a soft cream? Perhaps a pair in each?

Dorian swallowed, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"I doubt it would be unsightly," said Dorian.

That really sent the blood rushing to Cullen's face.

"It's unprofessional," he said. "To walk around with a massive rip over one's rear. Dorian, don't tease, you knew what I meant."

Laughing, Dorian let go of Cullen.

"Well, I have my motivation to wait for you as you bathe," he said. "I'm sure you'd appreciate me checking your measurements and sending them to a real tailor. None of this Fereldan can't-read-a-measuring-tape nonsense."

There was a look of surprise on Cullen's face, a slight 'oh' in his lips, and a leaning back as if he expected Dorian to be pranking him.

"But–" Cullen began.

"No protests. If you want to repay me, I'll ask a favour of you later."

"Right. Well, if you are insisting–"

"I am," said Dorian.

"–then meet me in my office in fifteen minutes," said Cullen.

Dorian clapped Cullen on the back.

When Cullen walked away, Dorian watched, that pretty man swaying his hips unknowingly.


	3. Chapter 3

A sheet of paper was ruled up with columns and measurements, each one carefully labeled. Cullen was exceedingly patient, even enjoying the feel of Dorian's hands as they measured him.

"Arms up," said Dorian.

Cullen lifted, the hem of his untucked shirt rising, a tiny peep of skin showing from his low-slung, too short trousers. His stomach dipped into a v, and Dorian had to stop his eyes from lingering on Cullen's crotch.

There was just so little space for Cullen's body, the waistband sliding down as his buttocks took up the slack, strong, amazing thighs filling out the legs. 

Dorian wrapped a tape measure around Cullen's waist, marvelling again at how it accentuated Cullen's hips.

"You've already done my waist," said Cullen.

"Measure twice, cut once," said Dorian.

He could see the light freckles on Cullen's stomach, silvered lines of healed scars decorating his skin. Straightening, Dorian kept the tape around Cullen's waist, and pulled him in closer so they were flush against one another.

Cullen's hands went straight to Dorian's shoulders to steady himself, but he didn't pull away. The sparkle in his eyes was part excitement and part surprise.

"Taking me up on my hug offer?" asked Cullen.

"Maybe."

Dorian ran his hands down Cullen's back, but slowed and stopped on his waist. He wanted to feel that flesh before he explored it trapped under fabric – a different, no doubt equally as wonderful, texture.

"Maybe something more?" teased Dorian.

He pressed closer, kissed Cullen on the forehead, then stepped away. Cullen let out a frustrated noise, his hands darting straight to his trousers, folding neatly over the growing bulge that made his trousers even tighter.

"If it's more than once," said Cullen. "I want you more than once. This can't be some frivolous relationship, Dorian."

Dorian raised a hand, settling it under Cullen's chin.

"I think I can manage that," said Dorian.

After all, they had both wanted this for a long time, adjusting themselves to the idea of their mutual attraction. He knew that Cullen had shut himself up in a wall of emotions and memories, finally breaking through them now. Dorian's own nightmares had quelled, learning to accept himself and to accept making their interest public.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind-" said Cullen, stepping up to Dorian.

He pressed his lips to Dorian's, finding another kiss, and Dorian moaned into it. Cullen's lips were soft! He felt Cullen shiver as their hips collided.

Dorian was about to say something when Cullen stopped, somehow managed to sweep everything off his desk without disturbing the piles they were in, and his hands grasped Dorian's waist. A moment later, Dorian felt himself being lifted onto the surface.

Cullen also climbed on, hands either side of Dorian as he rubbed against a leg that Dorian was only half aware of thrusting between Cullen's thighs. Dorian loved that feeling, his own legs quite slender compared to the thighs that gripped and released as Cullen couldn't help himself but rut.

"Touch yourself," said Cullen, leaning down to bite at Dorian's clothes.

"Or I could-" said Dorian, lowering his legs so they were left dangling over the edge of Cullen's desk.

He pushed on the small of Cullen's back – and it was tempting, but he had promised himself to touch that rear first only when the pants were off! – and Cullen's hips lowered, grinding eagerly against Dorian's.

It was over in a matter of a few minutes, neither of them having had recent experience enough to hold out for longer. It was probably a good thing, Dorian noted, as the desk wasn't that comfortable when not in the heat of the moment, and when they rose, trousers sticky with cum, Dorian felt a twinge in his shoulder from lying the wrong way.

Watching Cullen pick up his papers was worth the cramp.

"I am so sorry about your shoulder," said Cullen. "I should have taken you up to the loft."

"It's fine," replied Dorian. He rolled it out gently, pretending it was worse when Cullen glanced over nervously so that he could continue to see that rear pointed into the air.

His current trousers were strong, although when Cullen had to get on his hands and knees for a paper that had slid under the desk, Dorian spotted the extra stitching along the seat straining. It had been repaired a few times, and no wonder, Cullen's ass seemed to grow when he bent over, even though Dorian logically knew it was just shifting and hadn't gotten any bigger.

"Did you find the measurements?" asked Dorian.

"Not yet."

Cullen's ass wiggled about. It would be great for toys, mused Dorian. A great big dildo secured to the wall or floor, Cullen bouncing up and down on it, ass bouncing with it, his thighs lifting him up and down ceaselessly until he came.

Eventually Cullen found his papers, and he emerged, flushed and sex ravished, curls falling into his eyes, and a damp patch to the front of his trousers.

"I should probably post this to the tailors," said Dorian.

He gave Cullen a kiss on the cheek, one hand stroking back the blonde hair into some semblance of Cullen's usual style. Cullen hummed, hands going to Dorian's collar and straightening it, pulling the robe over the matching patch of cum in Dorian's trousers. It was less noticeable - a patch of damp on black trousers usually was, where anything lighter was asking for trouble.

"Put those trousers in to soak, otherwise they'll stain," said Dorian. "And we can't let any more be ruined before you get your new clothes."

"Of course," said Cullen. "You should probably clean up before dinner, though. Your moustache is a bit wonky."

Dorian tried to fix the curl before he left, but it was no use. The guard that stayed outside Cullen's tower gave no indication that he'd heard anything when Dorian passed, staring resolutely at the battlements.


	4. Chapter 4

In the month and a half it took for Cullen's new clothes to arrive, two things happened. One, Dorian and Cullen made their relationship official after the Inquisitor found them kissing on the battlements, in the exact same spot she and Josephine had been heading to for the exact same reason. And two, Cullen was catching onto Skyhold's fondness for admiring his rear.

"Those Orlesians," huffed Cullen, speaking of a dignitary group that was visiting. "They annoy me."

"They're quite keen on you," mused Dorian, reading a book half-heartedly as his lover paced around their shared bedroom.

It was still cold at night, the hole in the ceiling not being very helpful. However Cullen was a veritable fire, and so cuddling close to him always alleviated the problem. Incredibly, they hadn't had sex since their heated moments on the desk, easing into the rest of their relationship to savour it.

"They keep pinching my buttocks," complained Cullen.

"They've done that to me too, once or twice," said Dorian.

He put his book down.

"Every time I pass them, there's at least one wandering hand."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. That was rather intrusive. He only put up with one or two pieces of fondling for the good of the Inquisition, but that was downright harassment of one man. Dorian was the only one allowed to touch, and he still hadn't done so, yet the Orlesians were being so crass and impatient!

"What if I cast a spell to set off some sort of embarrassing trap?" asked Dorian.

Cullen stopped pacing.

"Like what?" he asked curiously. "We can't offend them."

"Give them a rash or something," said Dorian.

"Then they'll think I'm diseased," said Cullen.

He started to undress, getting ready for bed. He'd taken up wearing a long tunic, hoping to deter gropers, but to no effect. The hem didn't quite make it over the swell of his hips and thighs. In fact, coupled with Cullen's belts it only accentuated his form.

"I'll think of something," said Dorian.

Cullen dropped into bed wearing nothing but his smalls, wriggling under the sheets. Dorian immediately shuffled in closer, attracted to the heat Cullen's body was giving off.

"You're freezing," said Cullen. "How have you not warmed up? You're a fire mage."

"I prefer warming up using you."

It hadn't taken long for Cullen to become used to sleeping with someone next to him. In fact, they both slept better with a body next to them. They always ended up in the same position when waking, with Cullen on his side, and the lankier form of Dorian draped over his back, one arm resting on Cullen's chest.

Those morning moments were some of Dorian's favourites. It was decadent to be so sleepy and affectionate, an experience that Dorian hadn't really had and neither, Dorian suspected, had Cullen.

When they woke that morning, Dorian had an idea. It took a little convincing, but Cullen agreed to it.

He slipped into the only pair of trousers that he hadn't yet worn from the Denerim tailors. This was a process in itself, and Dorian could see why Cullen didn't like them. His thighs caught first, and he edged them up as best he could, then tried to get them over his rump, which compressed his form. He moaned a little.

"I forgot how annoying it is to break these in," he grumbled.

He unintentionally thrust forward, as if that would help him fit, and finally succeeded in doing up his buttons.

One hand slid over his crotch, nudging it so he was comfortable, and the other rubbed at his ass.

"What did you want to cast?" asked Cullen.

He was massaging his thighs and ass, getting blood flowing again, tugging at his trousers so they wouldn't chafe. They were the tightest pants Dorian had ever seen - Cullen might as well have gone without them for all of the good they did. The waistband was already sliding down at the back, showing a slip of asscheeks as they pressed together in a tight and inviting crack.

Dorian grabbed the waistband and pulled it up. Cullen moaned again. Now the front of his pants had slipped, but it was better to dip at the front than the back, lest someone be tempted to stuff money or a proposal down the back of Cullen's pants.

"Anyone who touches your ass without permission will get a small burn on their hands. Or whatever they used to touch you," said Dorian.

"It's not a serious burn, is it?"

"No, just a deterrent," Dorian said. "Now hold the bedpost and lean forward."

Cullen did, pushing his rear at Dorian. As the spell heated up, Cullen gripped the bedpost. Hovering a few inches above Cullen's rear, Dorian's hands made sweeping motions, layering the spell on. He could feel the heat rising.

"How are you?" asked Dorian.

"It feels odd. Only that part of my body is that warm. It's very..." Cullen searched for the word. "Conspicuous."

"It'll cool down once I'm done. Okay, stand up."

Dorian finished the spell.

"It feels like I've been spanked but without the pain. You know, the feeling of heat that's not normally present?" asked Cullen.

"I've never been spanked in my life," said Dorian. "Sometimes a slap to the ass but never spanking."

"Oh."

Cullen frowned. Then he was blushing, pulling on the rest of his clothes.

"I didn't realise the Order was so kinky," said Dorian.

"It wasn't the Order, although some of us probably deserved a spanking. My mother smacked me once for taking a kitchen knife to whittle wood. She never did it again – she hated it – but you remember the feeling of that for quite a long time," said Cullen. "Are you sure this spell will work?"

Dorian feigned hurt, "Of course it will! How could you say otherwise?"

He shooed Cullen out as the bell rang to assemble in the War Room.

At the end of the day, three Orlesians had two burns, four of them had one, and an assorted collection of Skyhold members, numbering at seven, also had one burn on their hands. Some of the mages kindly gave them ice, but the burns were extremely superficial.

"I just don't get why they like my ass of all the asses available," said Cullen, turning to examine it in the full-length mirror Dorian had brought up when he had first moved into Cullen's tower.

He squashed it, jiggled it, and rubbed it, but still couldn't find an answer.

***

When the trousers arrived, Dorian dragged Cullen up to the tower immediately. The large box, wrapped in brown paper, sat on Cullen's bed. When it was opened, a number of trousers were folded up neatly, all in the very best and durable fabrics the tailors had to offer for warriors. There were two formal trousers, one cream, one black; a set of training leathers in oaken brown; three pairs of dark cherry red trousers, suitable for everyday and combat use, coloured to match Cullen's robes and tunics; and a pair of sleeping trousers, which was the latest rage, if only for how easily they came off. All of them, except for the sleeping trousers, were high waisted.

Cullen stared at them suspiciously. It wasn't as if he'd ever had luck with trousers before, and so Dorian understood his hesitancy now.

"Try these," said Dorian, picking up a red pair.

Sighing, Cullen undid his buttons, which had been securely restitched at some point (Dorian remembered why: Cullen had drunk a bit more at an official supper than he usually did, and gotten stuck as his bladder filled up with ale - the buttons didn't have a chance, popping off when Cullen eventually ducked out to relieve himself. Also, Dorian may have shrunk the trousers a tiny, tiny bit after Cullen had put them on) and peeled off his trousers.

Dorian turned away as the new ones went on. He couldn't hear any of the annoyed grunting that usually accompanied Cullen getting dressed, so Dorian assumed everything was going well.

"Turn around," said Cullen, and Dorian could hear the happiness before he saw it.

A sense of wicked glee gripped Dorian. He'd been right, the high waisted style suited Cullen. The waistband sat on Cullen's belly button, then elegantly caressed his skin, clinging to him without chafing, and being loose without bagginess. It followed his body in a clean line to those gorgeous hips, and down Cullen's legs, making them seem longer. Cullen spun slowly, and Dorian bit his lip, staring at the massive swell of rear, plump and rounded, comfortably cupped in red fabric, without being squashed.

It was the same with all of the trousers. They had to check every single one, of course, Cullen watching Dorian's face carefully.

Each new pair only made Dorian's cock go stiffer, and eventually he had to tuck it under his own waistband when Cullen was turned away so that he wouldn't notice. It spurted a few drops of seed, reminding Dorian each time that Cullen redressed that Cullen's was something he'd yet to touch properly.

"You are magnificent," said Dorian. "Truly, it is as if you've been carved from marble."

"You're teasing me again," said Cullen.

He pulled on the first pair again, and the way his body jiggled was enough for Dorian's cock to throb, more seed spilling from the head. It was no doubt engorged and red, wanting a good hand, lips, or that full ass to attend to it.

"No, I'm not," said Dorian, trying to clear the huskiness in it, but failing.

Cullen paused. Then his fingers reached out and slid under Dorian's robes. He found Dorian's aching cock.

"That's, uh, quite the compliment," said Cullen, swallowing.

Their eyes met.

"I didn't realise clothes could get you so eager," he continued. "Or is it something else?"

The intensity of Cullen's face, the upturned lips, the tongue licking them, eyes molten with desire – all of it, it was too much and Dorian blurted, "Your posterior. It's gorgeous and big and I don't normally go for it, but yours is truly exceptional and, ah!"

Dorian clenched his thighs. This was bound to end badly. Why had he said all of that?

Cullen blinked.

"My...posterior? You mean you like my ass? That's nice to know, but it's nothing exceptional," said Cullen.

"Nothin-Cullen. Your ass is huge. Your hips, your thighs, they're so plump, and you sway when you walk, and I love it. I haven't found an ass that's anything like it. Look, just sit on this chair," said Dorian.

"But that's your chair," said Cullen. "It's special to you."

Dorian slid it underneath Cullen, and watched as the commander filled it, almost too big to fit between the narrow armrests. Cullen looked down at himself.

"I'm...my ass...I'm huge. Oh Maker. Oh, this is terrible," he said, leaping up. "I've been making a fool of the Inquisition. The nobles must think I'm nothing but a desk worker, my soldiers have been staring at-at this instead of listening to me."

He grabbed his coat and put it on, despite it being far too hot for it.

"I-I'm going to apologise to the Inquisitor," said Cullen.

Before Dorian could say anything, or stop him, Cullen was down the ladder and out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Cullen was fast. Dorian wasn't fast enough to catch him by legs alone (at least not when sporting a now completely inappropriate erection), so he waylaid Cullen by throwing out a spell that tipped some unfortunate maid's washing basket across the corridor Cullen had made it to. She squeaked in surprise, and bent to gather the items.

It wasn't much, yet it was enough for Dorian to all but tackle Cullen. The commander squirmed. His arms flailed for two or three seconds, but he wasn't about to hurt Dorian to get away.

"Cullen, listen to me," said Dorian, hugging him tight. "They already know. They don't care."

"What?" stammered Cullen.

He pushed backwards into Dorian, and there was no way he hadn't noticed Dorian's erection, as he went still and quiet.

"They don't care what you look like, you're not an embarrassment, and anyone worthy of the Inquisition's time will know it's mostly muscle anyway."

The maid cleared her throat. Her basket was full again.

"You're standing on the corner of the pillowcase I need," she said.

Dorian and Cullen leapt back, still holding one another, but now face-to-face. Cullen apologised to the maid.

"We should probably address this further in your office," said Dorian.

Cullen was in a state of confusion and arousal, Dorian could tell. He was trying to keep his back to the wall, but he'd felt Dorian's desire and wanted it. His hands rested on his thighs, fingers splayed as if trying to hide them, but he was leaning forward as if for a kiss.

"Yes. We probably should. You probably think I'm quite the fool," said Cullen.

"No more of a fool than I. I should have put it better, not blurted it all out like a mageling."

Cullen smiled at that, glancing to the floor, and allowed Dorian to hook his arm in his and take him back across the battlements.

"So all this time, you've been obsessing over my behind?" asked Cullen, once they were back in his office.

Dorian locked the door behind him.

"Obsessing over _you_ , yes. Believe me when I say I don't want to make you look silly."

Sitting down, Cullen slid his chair under his desk. Self-conscious. Shy. He still had his coat on. He didn't want Dorian to see him, which was ridiculous because they'd already seen one another naked.

"You always had the better sense of style out of the two of us," said Cullen. "Although I cannot fathom that I managed to push through my...situation for so long. How ignorant I was."

"You do look ravishing in your new clothes though," said Dorian.

He slid onto the desk, sitting on papers, and spun so his feet rested on the arms of Cullen's chair. Gripping the edge of the table, Dorian exerted some pressure, pushing it back.

One hand lifted Dorian's robe, revealing his trousers, which clung even more snugly than Cullen's outfit. Fingers traced up Dorian's thighs, and Cullen leant towards Dorian, hands gripping tightly.

"Your legs are so slender," said Cullen.

Oh, this could turn bad. Dorian didn't want Cullen focusing on those. He slipped a foot onto Cullen's chest, firmly making him sit back.

Cullen hit the back of his chair with a gasp. His mouth opened, presumably to protest, but Dorian had enough space to slide off the desk. He dropped into Cullen's lap, tucking his legs underneath him.

Those thighs were so soft. Dorian kissed Cullen, hands cupping Cullen's face. They needed a bed. They desperately needed a bed so Dorian could worship Cullen's body, pressing attention and love so deep into his skin that Cullen wouldn't ever feel the need to try to change himself.

He pulled back, thumbs rubbing at Cullen's jaw.

"This isn't about me," he said.

The shiver underneath him told Dorian all he needed to know. He let his hands drop to Cullen's chest. Through the coat, which had slipped open, he could feel Cullen's nipples. He tweaked them, and Cullen moaned in surprise.

"This is about your pleasure. Learning how to love that ass of yours."

And he nipped at Cullen's neck.

Cullen shifted and made his approval known, gripping Dorian's robes.

"Upstairs," said Dorian, untangling Cullen's fingers and climbing off.

"Yes," gasped Cullen. "Yes, of course."

Dorian nudged Cullen up the ladder first. As soon as they were up, Dorian had that ridiculous coat off. Cullen tensed.

His cock was tenting in his trousers, but that's not what drew Dorian's attention. There were no words for how lovely Cullen appeared to him, slightly flushed, chest heaving in the thin shirt he'd been wearing whilst trying on the trousers. And those trousers clutched at Cullen's waist, drawing it in.

Dorian pushed Cullen onto the bed, unbuttoning Cullen slowly until he was lying partially undressed.

He pulled off Cullen's trousers, the fabric unrolling from chunky thighs that quivered as Cullen became anxious again.

"Dorian-"

"It's okay," said Dorian. "Unless you don't want to continue."

"I do want to continue," Cullen said, trying to sit up.

"Well then let me worship every inch of you. Roll onto your belly."

After he moved further onto the bed, Cullen did, hugging a pillow to his chest. Dorian kissed Cullen's thighs, fingers kneading into the muscled flesh, working his way up. He sat on Cullen's legs, playing with the ass that was presented. His hands couldn't even cover those massive cheeks, swatting playfully.

It was even better than Dorian had imagined. He regretted not purchasing toys for Cullen, but that could wait. First to build up confidence, then introduce some trickier elements.

Cullen's hips rutted forward and Dorian hadn't even begun to prepare him. In fact, he wasn't sure if he wanted to do that yet. There were so many possibilities, and Dorian needed Cullen to feel good.

He grabbed a small pillow, rose onto his knees and lifted Cullen by his hips, stuffing the pillow underneath him. There. Better pressure for Cullen to fuck against, and it raised his ass so it jiggled with every thrust.

The sight wrung an orgasm from Dorian, suddenly and intensely, his body clearly fed up with the delay, and he felt cum soak into his clothes.

"Cullen," said Dorian. "Cullen you're so goddamn handsome I came in my smalls like some undisciplined youth."

"Let me feel," said Cullen.

Dorian moved to the side of the bed and guided Cullen into his trousers. When Cullen's fingers withdrew they were sticky, and Cullen licked them, flushing as Dorian started to undress.

"Did you really come from that or are you just trying to make me feel better?"

"My dear commander," Dorian purred. "After this, I will have a hard time watching you in public, knowing what I know about how you have a freckle on your right buttock, and that you're delectably soft over muscle."

Cullen groaned. Dorian took this as an indication to continue. He resettled on Cullen's comfy thighs, and nipped at the pale cheeks, helping to push Cullen into the pillow, watching Cullen's back ripple, and all manner of obscene noises rumbling from the warrior's body.

It took a few more minutes before Cullen shouted, hips at a frenzied pace and he went still, panting.

Dorian rolled him back over, kissing Cullen on the belly and then on the lips.

"Did you like that?" Dorian asked.

"Maker, yes."

Dorian smiled, and massaged Cullen's thighs, finding that he needed more of this contented happiness in his life.

"And to think this all began with a quest for trousers," said Cullen. "I'll have to send a note of thanks to the Denerim tailors."


End file.
